


affluenza

by dankobah



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Dom/sub, F/M, Financial Domination, ben gets called a “pay pig” a lot, dom!rey, eat the rich, excessive cash spending, light degradation, sub!Ben
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 09:27:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24847543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dankobah/pseuds/dankobah
Summary: “Wait, you like it when I call you names.”“Mhm.”“And you like it when I’m mean to you.”“Yes.”Then the big risk is to say, “You like it when I spend your money.”“Bingo, sunshine.”
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 52
Kudos: 171





	affluenza

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beccastanz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beccastanz/gifts).



> dedicated to [Becca](https://twitter.com/beccastanz) for dealing with a Dom!Rey for a change and indulging me.

Dating a rich boy is...a whirlwind.

To cut to the chase, she didn’t think she’d be in the position, standing over a 6’4 man with a penchant for being whipped with his own belt. The air is oppressive, heavy on her sweat dotted skin as her eyes then dart around the beautiful dark mahogany furniture in the bedroom, at the cuffs laid out on the bed right next to the laptop and the shiny black card on top of the Apple logo. 

The sheets are white, probably Brooklinen type shit based on the softness on her ass the last time she slept over.

The leather belt brushes against her calf where it hangs from her grip, swinging back and forth as she watches him keep his head down. He’s subservient, a little angel when he wants to be and a devil with a sharp tongue the rest of the time. Rey likes his tongue, especially on her cunt where he loves to bury his face so much. He’s insatiable, constantly calling and texting, requesting her company like a needy little sub would.

Because that’s Ben, a disastrous dynamite packed submissive man who’s lethal when it comes to control outside of the bedroom. Rey refuses to be played like a violin, that much was obvious when he tried to placate her upon first meeting.

_The champagne cork, where it hit the top of her breast, leaves a mark and radiates pain across her chest. She likes to think she has a high pain threshold but the sensation has her hand falling across her breast to put pressure on what will become a bruise._

_Her face screws up in absolute rage, so tired of this stupid yacht party she didn’t even want to go to in the first place. Rose had dragged her along, on some tinder date with some stupid boy that she hopes isn’t going to stick around; Rey likes single Rose._

_Or she really likes not being the only one alone. Either way, their date is going swimmingly and she got hit in the tit by a dark haired monster who can’t pop a cork. The assailant is looking around for the cork and Rey leans down and picks it up at her feet. Why is there champagne in the first place? Is there a fucking cake on the table behind them or is she hallucinating?_

_Her voice is harsh, commanding as can be to get his attention, “Looking for this?”_

_The dark-haired stranger looks relieved, bounding over to her. “Oh thanks.”_

_She’s trying to stay cool, “It hit me in the chest.”_

_His brows furrow, and she notices how imperfect but perfect his facial features are. She wishes she could paint them in any other scenario, or create little constellations with the moles on his skin. But she’s pissed off, and his shrug doesn’t help._

_“Oh, sorry.”_

_She snaps, “Just sorry?”_

_Is she unfairly taking her rage at being at this party on some random guest? “What do you want me to do? Boohoo about it?”_

_She doesn’t really know what happens next but she knows her fist goes flying and she’s punching Ben Organa-Solo, the actual birthday boy._

You’d think that would get a guy to steer clear of you. You’d think Rey would want him to fuck off after. Instead, something inside of her snaps like a puppeteer’s string and she has the decency to get him ice for his bloody nose.

Ben does not leave her alone after this. At this point, Rey is still working at the antique shop with a horrible dust allergy for barely minimum wage. Living in her shithole apartment, eating microwave ramen, she’d be stupid to not tell you that poverty blows.

So going on a first date with someone like Ben would be something out of a fucking movie.

And it was, right from the moment she saw what wealth and power could feel like.

_The bright silver Porsche Taycan sits haphazardly in a visitor parking space, gaining eyes from anyone who gets out of their cars when they both walk up. She feels very underdressed, in a plain black jersey dress with a faux leather jacket on top, to be getting into the car. Ben just walks up in his black blazer and tight jeans, looking like an off duty model._

_In reality he’s very successful and it shows, even without the family name._

_Though someone so successful sounds so meek when he asks, “Is the car okay for your tastes? Or if you want, we can go back to mine and swap it for one you really like.”_

_For some reason she can’t comprehend having multiple cars, let alone one fucking Porsche, and she asks idly, “This is perfect but what kinds do you have?” He walks to open her door, and she steps down in her high heels she got on clearance at the local Target. She still looks hot as fuck, she can tell how his eyes stay off the scoop neck of the chest and modestly on his hands._

_God, she’s got some breaking in to do and she hates to disarm so quickly into a date when the guy just opened a door for her. “I asked a question.”_

_“BMW, Lexus, Aston Martin...oh I just got a Tesla? Plus this one. Oh and my dad loans me his vintage collection all the time.” He lists this off like this is all the series he has on DVD, rather than thousands of dollars going poof into flames._

_She doesn’t know why it makes her belly light up too._

She had never been a very dominant person in bed before him. Sure, she knew she liked to be on top but it's not as simple as that. It’s a psyche thing that she doubted she had for the first five weeks she was seeing Ben.

He was patient, didn’t pressure her for anything. He just doted like that was his purpose in life, instead of being what she figures out is a successful author of best selling business psychology books with a deep trust fund. They’re dreadfully boring when she tries to read them, and she figures he likes her because maybe she’s an escape from that life.

They don’t really talk complex emotion as much as they should, Rey finding she needs to be a shade inebriated to open up about certain things.

The money issue comes up at dinner seven.

_The wine glugs into the glass, the last in the bottle they’ve ordered. She’s fuzzy, staring at the table cloth as they wait for dessert._

_Her lips are loose, unfortunately she begins to speak, “You know I grew up really poor, right?”_

_He gazes at her and shakes his head. She continues, “I’m really fucking poor outside of these dates. I could never split a check with you and that just-“_

_Checking her lip gloss in the reflection of her spoon, she sets it back down when she knows she can’t avoid what she needs to say, “Why does that not bother me?”_

_She’s been taught money is something to get sick over, to be violent to someone over. Not something to just give away like the way the champagne sprayed when they first collided. He leans close to her and swallows visibly, before answering diplomatically, “You know what you deserve and you’re not afraid to take it.”_

_Does she take what she want? To be fair, this was the first date she didn’t look at menu prices and calculate if she could pay her student loans with what she could spend at this restaurant on food and liquor to stomp out her crassness._

_She’s always been a little “monster made for men” according to her old foster father. Ben will think so too, maybe not now._

_But eventually._

They have sex that night. It’s normal, vanilla sex that only has a hint of ass play when he asks for her finger to trace the rim while he fucks her missionary. 

It’s the kind of sex that tries too hard to be normal, so something is very suspicious off the bat. She pushes it down, keeps working at the antique shop, and keeps fucking him because she has to get to the bottom of it.

She wishes she came up with the answer to why the sex was so bland that time, or very restrained and clinical the times after that. It’s almost like suppression is the name of the game, but Ben was anything but when he called her on the phone one night, before she found herself in this position.

_Raucous laughter crackles over the speaker, and her ears are confused by what she’s hearing. Here she is, trying to get some shut eye before her opening shift and Ben is calling her at two in the fucking morning._

_“Rey, Rey, Rey.” He says it so dreamy, like she’s holding an ice cream bar to his lips._

_“I was asleep-“_

_There’s a car door slam. “You better not be driving drunk.”_

_She can hear him roll his eyes, if that’s even possible. “Just got in an Uber. Listen to me very close honey.”_

_Honey. “Don’t you dare use pet names with me.”_

_“Then what do I call you?”_

_“Call me?” Does she need a special name or something?_

_“Yeah your preferred title. If I were to refer to you with respect, what would that title be? Think hard about it.”_

_“Don’t tell me what the fuck to think hard about, asshole.”_

_He breathes hard and something fucking_ **_clicks_ ** **.** _Like a camera shutter, snapshotting her face as she sits up in bed._

_“Wait, you like it when I call you names.”_

_“Mhm.”_

_“And you like it when I’m mean to you.”_

_“Yes.”_

_Then the big risk is to say, “You like it when I spend your money.”_

_“Bingo, sunshine.”_

That starts a whirlwind. 

Financial domination, according to Google when Rey drunk dives, is defined as a sexual fetish, in which a submissive will give gifts and money to their financial dominant. This isn’t chains and whips, though Ben comes pretty clean quickly about his interest in the rest of the world of BDSM. Financial domination is psychology, it is convincing Ben Organa-Solo that she deserves his wallet and to crush his balls while she looks through it. 

For a girl seldom empowered growing up, the thought is daunting enough to give her pause on talking to him for three days.

Then after she gets over herself and apologizes for dropping off the face of the earth, they start small. They start with Ben just handing her twenty bucks randomly, just because he wants to. It happens with a kiss on her forehead and a squeeze of her ass cheek before he gets in the car.

Then a casual dress arrives in a delivery, a blue and white spotted number. She decided to take it a step further that night, initiating her first bit of domming. 

_The dial tone rings as she waits on the phone, chewing on her pinky nail nervously as she stares at the clock._

_What if he doesn’t answer? What if she utterly embarrasses herself-_

_The phone clicks, there’s airspace. He asks, “Rey?”_

_“Yeah. You’re buying me four more dresses.”_

_He sounds a little perplexed, before asking, “Huh?”_

_She snaps her fingers close to the receiver, “Hey pay pig, I know you heard me. I want four more dresses by the end of next week.” The nickname comes from a Reddit she found, and she hopes he likes it. She hopes he notices the effort she’s putting in for him, to take care of his sexual pleasure while serving her own sick need for control._

_He replies, “Okay. What kind of dresses do you want? I’m sorry I didn’t hear you the first time, ma’am, I was being stupid.”_

_Music to her fucking ears._

Now she’s here. This is their first time incorporating all the separate elements together. 

His house is twenty minutes from her, significantly nicer and containing way more breakable things than she would know what to do with. Traveling there today felt way different than she anticipated, given the plans for the night. It’s pure debauchery by his design, and she underestimates what exactly he wants.

First he puts her in lingerie, a leather bodysuit that’s high cut on her crotch. The thigh high boots are the next touch she doesn’t expect, and walking is a little complicated. She’s determined though to embody the ultimate sex goddess dom.

Then the belt hits her palm, and her resolve chips a bit. There’s no need to be a scaredy cat, so they walk back into his bedroom, Ben strips off methodically while she just stands and watches, and her brows knit together when he drops to his knees.

She waits two minutes in silence, watching him carefully. Then she looks at the spread on the bed, at the black card. Her legs take her to the bed, ignoring her little charge on the floor and leaning over the covers.

“Memorize the number.”

She looks back, “Did I ask you to speak?”

“No ma’am.”

The words come out harsh and mean, “Then be fucking quiet, or I’ll put a muzzle over that pretty mouth.”

His whine is so quiet and shuddery, and she looks at the card and feels the weight in her hand. The pure power and big dick energy that radiates off the laser engraving is saliva inducing, and she holds her shit together. 

This is Rey’s card. Not his. 

Throwing it back on the covers, she opens the laptop with one finger because it’s precious. He’s clearly watching her and she looks back at him. “So...explain what you want, pay pig.” 

He hesitates and she cracks the belt like a whip to really show who runs the show. He gets the message, “Handcuff me, get on the laptop, and shop until I-“

“Until you what? Say it, my little slut.” She likes calling him names, knowing she’d never call any other rich fuck these names.

“I come.” 

She laughs, “You think you deserve to come? You want me to play with your cock until you come?”

He nods fiercely and she sets her mouth in a grimace, grabbing his jaw quickly and holding him with a hard grip. “I decide when and where the fuck you come, you never ever forget that.”

Then she straightens up and surveys him. He’s got a guilty look on his face and she vows to get to the bottom of it immediately, “You look guilty, what did you do?”

He admits, quiet as can be, “I played with my ass until I came an hour before you arrived.”

Pure betrayal doesn’t even cover it. She frowns again and crosses her arms over her chest. She knows what she has to do, but can she do it safely? She’s never cracked a belt across an ass before, but now is the time to try. “Get face down on the bed, ass in the air. Make sure you don’t spread your legs too far.”

He obeys immediately, knowing he did something wrong. She watches him as he does, keeping his legs close together despite his big and hard cock hanging between them. Then she brushes the belt along his cheeks and asks, “Are you going to be good after I punish you?”

“Yes.”

That’s when she brings the belt down and sees him shoot forward. She grabs him by the hair before he flops onto his face, then gently dragging his head back to center. Leaning to whisper in his ear, she asks as Rey (not as a scary Dom), “You good? I can stop.” 

“I can handle it.” 

His jaw is set and his eyes screwed down, and she leans back up and does what her sub wants. Ben grits out, “Harder.”

She brings her arm down in a sweeping motion, the crack super loud in the bedroom. He moans, and she does it again. 

And again.

And most certainly again. 

Rey does it until he literally reaches back and tries to rip the belt from her hands, starting a tug of war. “Use your words, slut.”

He rushes out, “Stop hitting me and buy things on my card, please.” 

She tosses the belt aside and ruffles his hair. “Sit up against the headboard, wrists out in front of you.” He moves like a shot.

He thrusts his wrists out and she claps the cuffs onto them. Setting the key on the nightstand, she pushes the laptop up the bed and sticks the card in between her breasts. Then she scoots close to him, but not touching him. The thigh high boots skip across the comforter as she sits up fully and opens up the laptop.

“Budget?”

He looks confused and that's when she laughs again. “Who am I kidding? You’re giving me what I want, pay pig.” Then she gives him a winning smile and opens up her favorite store to stare at lately: La Perla.

She catches his gaze, wide and hungry. “You might see me in this stuff. Unless you keep being a cockslut.” 

“I want to.”

“Then stop touching yourself without my permission. That simple, honey.”

Scrolling through the lingerie, she starts out her strategy by trying to have tact and class, thinking into what she adds to her cart. That lasts all of five minutes. She finds a red bodysuit with sheer paneling to show skin and can’t ignore it, even at two hundred and fifty dollars. 

A blue one is right next to it, and she adds that one without much care that it’s double the price. She goes to the cart screen, seeing the total. “Let’s play a fun game.”

He perks, watching silently like a good sub should. He doesn’t give unsolicited opinions in sub mode. She goes on, “For every thousand I spend, you get one stroke on your neglected cock.” 

He nods fiercely and says while shifting closer, “Please, please, please-“

She holds out a hand to touch his bare chest, then tracing over his nipple and watching him shudder. Then she lazily looks back at the screen, “Two thousand three hundred eighty seven and thirty four cents.”

Then she paraphrases, “So two.” She checks out, his card conveniently saved in the browser. Then she hops to sit on his big thigh, and he lets her while she pulls the laptop closer and wraps her hand around his shaft. 

One pump makes him moan wantonly, like a porn rotted caricature straight from her fantasies. Then she pumps his dick again and lets go, and confetti launches off in her head as another idea comes to her.

“I need a toaster. I could very well go to Target for one or…” 

She types in Williams Sonoma, landing on the pristine white web page with a rustic sort of feel that curls her belly up like a cat. Then she clicks on the “toasters” section.

While clicking to switch the sort function from high to low, she says, “I deserve the best, don’t I?”

He doesn’t answer and she digs her nails into his thighs, “Right, pay pig?”

He answers, with the lewdest faux innocence that she could never muster, “You deserve everything, ma’am.” 

Eight hundred fifty feels a little excessive for a toaster, even a Dolce and Gabbana Smeg toaster. She goes for a less stomach turning four hundred and adds it to the cart without even (gasp) looking at the reviews. She’s buying recklessly, like he requested over text one time. 

Humming, she clicks onto a different page. “Blender and a juicer too. I like orange juice in the mornings.”

“I’ll buy you a whole orange grove if you want one.” 

“Did I say you could speak?”

He replies by shutting his mouth and looking back at the screen, and Rey coasts through the blenders on the high-low setting once again. Rey does not feel bad about adding an eight hundred dollar copper colored blender to the cart, tipping them over one thousand. The thing that she neglects to realize is that she’s going to have to press “place order” once again, and this is not just a one off. 

Rey has never seen two thousand dollars before, and she had just spent that like it was chugging rosé. She looks back at him and he views her, swallowing something down and leaning forward to try to kiss her.

She shoves his face away from her and says, “Not until I place the order, needy.” 

He sets his jaw, and Rey wants to push her little sub into mad territory. She wants to see him be a bit bratty, fight a little for his money. She could very well drain his bank account like she’s about to do to his balls. 

He doesn’t fight though, even though he’s working his jaw over and over and his lower lip begins to stick out right before her eyes. She snorts, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she hunches forward onto her elbows to stick her ass right in his face, fingers poising on the keyboard and trackpad as she looks at electric kettles.

She wiggles right in his face, knowing he can’t touch her. The enticement process makes her feel like royalty, and she reaches between her legs to rub herself through the leather with the pressure of two fingers. “Look at me, pay pig. I bet you want to shove your face right there, huh.” If Ben could choose, he’d probably have her pussy attached to him like a face hugger ala Alien.

He whimpers, “I do.” She giggles and looks back at the screen, cruising around all sorts of kitchen products she doesn’t need. That’s luxury. 

She checks out for six thousand dollars. How she got there is with cutlery and plates, and also a two thousand dollar espresso machine that she’s sure she’s going to need help using. “Maybe I’ll think of you while making my coffee every morning.”

Then she cocks her head and shrugs, “Or I won’t. Which would you prefer, my little darling?” Looking back, this is a test if he’ll speak. 

He doesn’t, like a good boy. “Obedient pig. I’m so pleased with you.” The card still sits next to her heart, stuck to the sweat her breasts are producing beneath the leather. Her hand wraps around his cock.

“Six for you.” Pre-cum drips onto her knuckles from the tip of his dick and she strokes his cock six slow times. His breath hitches, back arches so his hips try to move away from her during it. They don’t succeed, given she holds them down with her knee and front of her calf across his solid stomach. Ben works out, that much is evident with the hard muscle beneath her leg. 

When she’s done, she licks the pre-cum off her fingers while staring directly at him. His face is like she did a magic trick he can’t figure out, eyes then flitting to the screen. She asks, “More?”

She’d love to fuck him now given that she’s spent eight thousand dollars, but that doesn’t seem to be enough for him as he nods. This has now become testing limits, seeing how far she can push his cash. 

She needs to get over her poverty, the fear of spending too much. Ben makes money like running a tap and overflowing a sink. Looking back at him again, she looks down at his cock resting against himself, his cuffed wrists hanging close to it but not daring to touch. She has an idea for a more active distraction.

She moves her knee and says, “Flip onto your belly. You opened up your ass?”

He nods, rolling over onto his stomach, laying his head on its side on the plush pillow to watch her with one whiskey eye. “With what?” She sees his hips rutting into the mattress and before she knows it, she’s lifting her foot and digging her spiky stiletto heel into his ass cheek. 

He winces and replies, “A dildo, where’s my card-“

She shushes him and removes her heel from the reddened skin she was pressing into, then moving her hands down to his ass. She squeezes both cheeks, then slapping right where the belt hit him. He groans, and she takes a moment to make sure he didn’t just spill all over the sheets.

“Lift your hips. No grinding.” 

He does it and it opens up his ass a little more, very conveniently for her finger to trace the rim of his hole. He’s clean of any lube he might’ve used earlier, but she can see a tiny bit of a gape still. Her finger, like it was made for him, slips right inside. He shudders, and she moves her finger in and out of him while leaning very close to him.

His mouth is parted, breathing heavy as he locks pleading and big eyes with her own chartreuse pupils. He looks so much less hardened like this, whimpering beneath her ministrations, “More.”

She keeps her voice airy, “More what?” 

“More money. Spend more money.”

He says it like a man who’s dying and needs his last wish to be heard and Rey doesn’t want to make her sub sad.

So she picks up the laptop and sets it at the top of the pillows, where she can still scroll and type and he can still see if he looks up. She slips in a second finger and goes wild, typing in “robot vacuum” into Google.

“I’m tired of fucking vacuuming.” She chooses a reasonably expensive model, a thousand four hundred down the drain for a copper accented over-glorified duster as she pushes deeper into him and presses checkout. The process is a breeze, inputting her shipping address. It’ll be nice and exciting to get packages for once.

That doesn’t set him off, and she knows she might have to go bigger than anticipated. She ponders while she fingers him just what the limit of his pockets are. What does Rey need most in this world?

A better job? Can’t buy that. Health insurance? Could buy that but that’s a lengthy process and would probably make him quirk an eyebrow more than she would want. Then it comes to her, like a freight train running off a track and into the land of absolute fuckery.

She types in the website into the computer, takes out the card to really stare and contemplate what she’s about to do with it. He very well might safe word when he sees the site, so she waits for his eyes to open and look at the screen again.

The Tesla car builder sits open on the screen, open to a Model S. The minimum price is seventy four thousand dollars, and she picks blue as the color. He’s deathly silent so she keeps going, picking four thousand dollar rims, a two thousand dollar cream interior.

She adds full self driving for an extra seven thousand, unable to comprehend that he’s letting her keep going. She adds a third finger and pushes up against what she assumes his prostate. He whimpers like it is, breathing in and out like he’s running a marathon, keeping his ass in the air as she arrives at the payment screen.

Eighty nine thousand four hundred and ninety dollars, even. No cents, or she might’ve had an aneurysm.

And the best part? He’s already logged into the Tesla site, so all his payment info is pre-populated. 

His sounds are getting desperate, whiny and needy as his eyes stay on the screen. Rey’s finger trembles as it coasts across the trackpad, moving the cursor to the place order button.

She looks between him and the screen. She says a tiny prayer to herself.

And then she clicks.

Two things happen: the order goes through and knocks air from her lungs, and Ben comes all over the sheets and himself. His phone dings across the room with probably an order confirmation as he breathes hard, trembling as he holds himself up so he doesn’t get dirty by falling in it.

She remembers he’s cuffed and scrambles to grab the keys, unlocking the handcuffs. He sits back against his heels, still huffing and puffing as he rubs his wrists. His cock is slowly calming down and Rey realizes she is not; she’s keyed up and wet against the leather that she now has kitchen appliances and a fucking _car._

He lifts his eyes to look at her, and by god, there’s such a beautiful blush on his cheeks.

Then he speaks, voice a little hoarse, “Should take me on a ride in that new car sometime.”

She launches herself at him.

**Author's Note:**

> fat stacks, cold cash. i might continue these two, idk. thoughts and feelings welcome at [twitter](https://twitter.com/dankobah)
> 
> work title is inspired by ”affluenza” by conan gray
> 
> the list  
> [the blue dress](https://www.thereformation.com/products/othello-dress?color=Moray&via=Z2lkOi8vcmVmb3JtYXRpb24td2VibGluYy9Xb3JrYXJlYTo6Q2F0YWxvZzo6Q2F0ZWdvcnkvNWE2YWRmZDJmOTJlYTExNmNmMDRlOWM1)  
> [leather bodysuit](https://darkestfox.com/collections/vegan-leather-fetish-lingerie/products/manon-matte-bodysuit)  
> [blue bodysuit](https://www.laperla.com/us/bianca-cornflower-blue-leavers-lace-bodysuit-cfiplm004903-bln148.html)  
> [red bodysuit](https://www.laperla.com/us/agata-underwired-bodysuit-in-red-stretch-tulle-cfiplm004450-rsf153.html)  
> [the toaster](https://www.williams-sonoma.com/products/wolf-gourmet-4-slice-toaster/?pkey=ctoasters-ovens&isx=0.0.1576)  
> [the blender](https://www.williams-sonoma.com/products/kitchenaid-pro-line-series-blender-thermal-control-copper/?pkey=cblenders&isx=0.0.651)  
> [robot vacuum](https://www.newegg.com/p/0UH-0001-000J9?item=9SIAFVDA1A0924&nm_mc=knc-googleadwords&cm_mmc=knc-googleadwords-_-robotic%20vacuums-_-irobot-_-9SIAFVDA1A0924&source=region#)  
> [rey’s new car](https://www.tesla.com/models)


End file.
